


Big Gay Trife Hours

by peachyysweetz



Category: Inanimate Insanity (Web Series)
Genre: Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:55:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29258541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyysweetz/pseuds/peachyysweetz
Summary: Trophy lets Knife feel his kid moving for the first time.
Relationships: Trophy/Knife (Inanimate Insanity)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 8





	Big Gay Trife Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Ok jsyk I know little to nothing about these two other than “Trophy mean and everyone hates him. Knife is a tough-love type, but still hates Trophy.” yet I still write about them because I love this dynamic. It’s like 2/4 but with szechuan peppercorns that numb your tongue. It’s definitely OOC and I don’t plan on fixing it.
> 
> Context: Trophy and Knife, despite being enemies, hate-fucked a few times, and might have forgotten protection once, so Trophy gets knocked up.

Trophy pressed Knife’s hand to his stomach, just slightly to the right of where his navel would be if he had one. It took a moment before Knife could actually feel anything, but his facial expression changed to that of surprise when he felt a small flutter against his palm.

“That… that’s really…” He gasped, trying to get the words out.

Trophy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I had the same thought.  _ Ohh, this is suddenly really real now. I’m going to have to take care of this bastard kid alone. _ ” He sneered.

Knife looked up. “Well, you don’t  _ have _ to be alone. I mean, this is my kid too.”

“So what, you’re saying you want to help take care of them?” Trophy questioned.

“I’ve been thinking about it since I found out, and I figured I wouldn’t mind being in the picture one way or another. Even if  _ you  _ still hate my guts, that’s still our kid.” Knife replied.

“Wait really--?! I mean-- Of course you’d say that to get out of paying child support.” Trophy stammered, struggling to keep up his tough exterior.

Knife snickered, looking Trophy in his eyes, seeing straight through his act. He knew Trophy long enough to know when he was trying to hide his emotions. Trophy’s cheeks heated up, furrowing his brow and looking away.

“You… really want to take care of this kid? Even after everything we’ve done to each other?” Asked Trophy, still avoiding eye contact with Knife.

“If you want, I’ll stay around in your room and take care of them when they start screaming in the middle of the night so you can actually get some sleep.” Knife half-joked.

That got Trophy to laugh a little, before his smile faded, and he let out a sniffle.

“Hey…” Knife began, placing a hand on Trophy’s shoulder, “what’s wrong?”

Trophy shook his head, wiping his eyes. “I don’t know, I guess I’m just thankful? God, I’m still so scared, even though the news is out to pretty much everyone now.”

Knife looked down at him sympathetically. Only until a few months ago, he had no clue what Trophy had been through. He didn’t know what else to do, but to offer a small sentiment of pulling Trophy close, gently hugging the golden object. Trophy became a mess in Knife’s arms, quietly crying into his chest, unable to hold it in any longer. Knife rubbed his back and shushed him, encouraging him to let it all out.

“You’re gonna be okay, I’ll be there for you for  _ anything  _ you two need.” Knife whispered.

When Trophy’s sobs died down, Knife just held him, wanting to make him feel safe in any way possible notwithstanding the details of their relationship. That was irrelevant right now. What mattered the most right now is making sure Trophy is okay. Trophy leaned into his hilt, having to turn on his side so that his belly wouldn’t get in the way. Knife brushed at his tear-stained cheeks, wiping away the wetness. Knife didn’t know what he was thinking. In fact, he was positive he wasn’t thinking at all when he pressed a tender kiss to Trophy’s rim. The metal ornament quickly looked up, pulling away, but still had his hands on Knife’s handle.

“Did you just kiss me?”

“Uh, no? You were probably imagining things.” The weapon attempted.

Trophy smirked. “You really became soft after hanging out with those dorky teammates of yours.”

“And you weren’t just now holding onto me like the world was gonna end if you let go.” Knife argued.

“Was not!” Trophy snapped, letting go of Knife completely.

“Sure, whatever. So when are you going to let me move into your room?”

“Never.”


End file.
